


A New Year Break

by happyeverafter72



Series: Episodes of a Life Together [15]
Category: Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/pseuds/happyeverafter72
Summary: Holmes and Watson get away for New Year.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Episodes of a Life Together [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926553
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	A New Year Break

**Author's Note:**

> This features the house and Mrs Pulver from 'Treasure for the Senses'.

After a quiet Christmas spent together, Holmes asked me on Boxing Day whether I would like to get away. 

“I thought that we could go to the house in Warwickshire for New Year,” he said. “Mrs Pulver makes the greatest mince pies I have ever tasted.” 

I laughed. “That would be lovely.” 

He dispatched a wire to inform Mrs Pulver that we would arrive as soon as possible the next day. Indeed, we set out very early the following morning. Even so, it had fallen dark before we reached Wasperton. When we transferred into the dog cart for the final leg of the journey, the driver had his lanterns blazing. We were both very grateful to see the lights of the house shining up ahead. 

Mrs Pulver appeared at the door as the cart drew up. “Hello, Mr Sherlock, Dr Watson,” she greeted us. “It’s lovely to have you back.” 

Holmes consented to a brief hug, then I kissed her on the cheek. Snow was just beginning to fall. 

“I’ve made up the fire,” she said. “Get your things and come and have a warm.” 

“Thank you,” I replied gratefully as we unloaded our baggage. 

We hurried inside to find it was fabulously warm. My poor darling was shivering terribly, and my wounds had been paining me for some time, so we spent a long while huddling together before the fire. Once we felt sufficiently warmed up, we took our bags up to the bedroom, then Mrs Pulver served supper. It was cottage pie followed by rice pudding, perfect for the season. 

After supper, we retired. We shared a bath, relaxing together in the warm water and enjoying soft caresses and kisses. We then snuggled up in bed together, holding each other tightly. 

I pressed a kiss to his temple. “Good night, my darling,” I murmured. 

“Good night, mon trésor,” he responded. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

We woke the following morning to a light dusting of snow. Deciding it would be pleasant to visit the village, we slithered our way back along the road. We passed the morning there and had lunch at the pub. The snow had largely melted by the time we set out on the walk back. 

It did not snow again until the night before New Year’s Eve. It began to fall heavily in the evening and watched through the windows, content to view the peaceful scene whilst remaining in the fire’s warmth. 

When we woke, the bedroom was freezing. Unwilling to leave the warmth of our bed in a hurry, I wrapped my arms around my darling. I nestled my face against his neck and kissed the soft skin. He hummed with pleasure when I rubbed the bristles of my moustache against the angle of his jaw, and I smiled. 

“Do we have to get up, John?” he asked, his voice softened by sleep. 

“No, my love,” I replied. “Not just yet.” 

When we eventually got out of bed, we found that everywhere was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Over breakfast, we decided that we would go for a walk. We put on all of our warmest layers before setting out, then meandered slowly around the lake, hand in hand, enjoying the beautiful scenery. In a playful mood, I instigated a snowball fight, which degenerated into tickling, and concluded with us tumbling together onto the snow and kissing until we were breathless. When Holmes helped me back up, I winced as my leg protested. 

“You are in pain,” he said with concern. 

“The cold has aggravated my leg,” I replied, trying to allay his worries. “I will be fine once I warm up.” 

“Then we must warm you up, my sweetheart.” 

We remained inside for the rest of the day, cuddling under a blanket by the fire and drinking cocoa. Holmes talked about plans he had for work on several new monologues and I contributed where I could, but mostly I was happy to listen to him talk so passionately. 

This must have showed on my face, because he asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

I smiled. “When you’re passionate about something, Sherlock, you are breath-taking.” 

He blushed and looked away. I squeezed his hand under the blanket, and he squeezed back. After a few moments, he began to talk again. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

We stayed up late that night to ring in the new year with a glass of brandy. 

“Happy New Year, John,” Holmes murmured, holding up his glass. 

“Happy New Year, Sherlock,” I replied, clinking my glass against his. 

We drained our glasses, then shared a soft kiss. When we pulled back, he brought up a hand to caress my cheek. 

“I promise to treasure you all the year,” he said softly. 

“And I promise to love and protect you this and every year,” I responded, turning my head to press a kiss to his palm. 

This had become a tradition for us, like an annual renewal of our marriage vows. It still never fails to make us smile. 

Soon afterwards, we retired to bed. I stoked up the fire, hoping to keep some of the warmth in the room overnight, before joining Holmes under the covers. We held each other close, sharing our warmth, and we both soon fell fast asleep. 

I woke rather earlier than I had intended the following morning. The fire had gone out and the room felt cold. Reluctantly, I carefully disentangled myself from Holmes’s embrace to see whether I could coax some life back into the fire. I took up the poker and agitated the coals experimentally. There was no hint of a spark. Just as I was about to give it up, I heard Holmes moving behind me. 

“John,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist, “my darling, come back to bed.” 

He kissed my neck and I sighed, melting into his touch. I turned in his arms and captured his lips with my own, my hands roaming over his back and down to his waist. 

“Get rid of this,” I said, bunching his nightshirt in my hand. 

Seeing him bare before me, my breath caught, and my heart seemed to skip. 

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered. 

“So are you,” he replied, divesting me of my nightshirt too. 

We kissed again and again, then fell together onto the bed amid giggles. 

After we made love, we curled up together under the covers. His kisses were soft and sweet, his caresses gentle. I stroked a hand along the line of his hip, coming to rest on the smooth, luscious curve of his bottom. 

“What do you want to do today, my darling?” he asked. 

“Absolutely nothing,” I replied with a contented sigh. 

After all, we had a new year together stretching out before us. We had all the time in the world.


End file.
